


Laced

by Miri1984



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Ear Kink, M/M, Semi Public Sex, Sex Neutral Zolf, corsets, spine kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:12:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22840765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: Oscar knows about the ears. When he finds out about the spine, though, well, that requires some special equipment.
Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Oscar Wilde, Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde, Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 14
Kudos: 94





	Laced

Wilde knows about the ears, of course. Knew about it before the first time he and Grizzop fell into bed together. If questioned he would vigorously deny having read up on the erogenous zones of Goblins. If questioned more thoroughly he would admit he’d read up on the erogenous zones of every sentient species currently extant on the planet. Dragons especially had some quite fascinating erotic triggers, although Oscar kept those to himself. At least these days.

So he knew about the ears. Knew that a soft breath in one at an opportune moment could make Grizzop flush darkly under the grey of his skin, and was in danger of earning him a fist (or if he was lucky, something much better) to the groin. Knew that the gift he’d gotten Grizzop, a new ring for the third hole in one of his ears, meant something more to a goblin than it would to a human, that Grizzop’s complete stillness and soft sigh as Oscar threaded it through was an acknowledgement far more potent than any words of what had grown between them.

Oscar knew about the ears.

He didn’t find out about the spine until much later.

Grizzop wore a metal breastplate. It was practical and while Oscar would never describe it as stylish, it had a certain charm to it. He could admit liking that it kept Grizzop safe when he was out on a hunt even as he wished the goblin would occasionally dress in something that was a little easier to remove.

Grizzop didn’t really understand the concept of different outfits for different occasions, either. His breastplate was good enough for the hunt, so it was good enough for anything else. Wilde gave up trying to convince him to wear anything different until Hamid’s wedding, when surprisingly, he voluntarily pulled out a rather dashing three piece suit. 

“I didn’t know you owned any other clothes,” Wilde said as he watched, idly, Grizzop doing up the buttons on his waistcoat.

“Hamid’s weird about clothes,” Grizzop said. “Tried to get me to wear a suit to the Opera - you know - when we fought a dangerous necromancer?”

“Mmmm. He didn’t succeed there, I take it.”

“No, which was a good thing since I spent the aftermath of it dragging his little dragon ass down a tower after he tried to scratch me to death with his claws. I did wear a suit for his sister’s funeral though.” Grizzop turned, and Wilde tilted his head, admiring the way the cut of the suit accentuated Grizzop’s lean figure. It was simple and black, high quality and well tailored, and Oscar couldn’t help but reach out to smooth his hand over the lapel. Grizzop tilted his head and smiled, then turned back to the mirror. 

Oscar, always tactile, continued to smooth his hand down over Grizzop’s back, pressing slightly more firmly over the knots of Grizzop’s spine, enjoying the fact that he could follow its natural curve rather than be thwarted by a layer of metal.

He heard Grizzop draw in a breath, sharp and hard. It was a sound Oscar knew fairly well, now, one that made his heart rate pick up and his own breath come faster. He kept his hand at the small of Grizzop’s back, then ran his fingers up again until they reached the back of Grizzop’s neck.

Before he could continue that caress over the edge of an ear, however, his hand was captured in an iron grip by the goblin.

“We’ve got a wedding to get to,” he said, voice far lower than usual.

“Mmmmm,” Oscar said, then let his breath out, softly. Not  _ exactly  _ blowing but close enough.

“The carriage is here,” Zolf’s voice from downstairs floated up to them, and Oscar kissed the tip of Grizzop’s ear before the goblin could flick it out of his way.

“Saved by the cleric,” Oscar said.

“You’re paying for that later,” Grizzop promised, and Oscar grinned.

* * *

That night, after they’d danced and laughed and celebrated their friends, after Zolf had lazily kissed them goodnight and retired to his own room (there had been a brief argument, when he’d moved out, but the dwarf had won by making some salient points - “You’re too fucking noisy, not to mention hornier than teenagers, let an old sailor get some fucking rest for once, if you want cuddles you’ll know where I am”) - after all of that, Oscar spent the time to thoroughly explore the implication of this new side of Grizzop, to the point where the goblin was panting and swearing at him loudly enough to cause Zolf to thump on their connecting wall with his cane.

As they lay, panting in the aftermath, Oscar’s mind was already ticking over, formulating a plan.

* * *

The next time they had to don formal wear was for one of Edward’s public appearances. Since the death of his father and subsequent scandals surrounding his brother, the title of Duke had fallen to Ed, who managed to maintain nearly all of his duties as a paladin of Apollo by simply ignoring the fact that he was now one of the most powerful members of the British aristocracy.

It drove them mad, that they couldn’t control Ed, couldn’t dictate how he behaved. He was a perfect gentleman, had even taken a wife (who was expecting their first child). The fact that his wife had no difficulty with a lowly Orc archaeologist also living in their family estate, or the fact that Ed had turned a corner of it into a temple of Apollo that offered free healing and succour to the surrounding villages was fuel on the rabid frothing mess of what passed for “high society” these days. The fact that Ed was never rude, always gracious and quite obviously a devoted paladin made him immune to slanderous attacks. No matter what the press or the other surviving aristocrats might wish, Ed literally couldn’t lie without losing his powers, and was therefore above rebuke. It was a new form of aristocracy, one that fascinated and delighted Wilde, not the least because it so infuriated everyone else.

Still, despite carving out a new path in a permanently changed world, every now and then Ed  _ was  _ obliged to host a party at his estate, and he always made sure to invite Wilde and Grizzop and Zolf as well as the rest of the former LOLOMG. 

Oscar helped Zolf with his suit (the dwarf was becoming more sanguine about having to dress up, even appeared to enjoy it in ways that Grizzop never did, which was why he took Zolf with him to literary events rather than Grizzop) then went to Grizzop’s room, a carefully wrapped present under one arm, a goblin sized waistcoat in the other.

Grizzop had allowed Oscar to have another suit commissioned for him for this occasion, laughing at the suggestion that the goblin just wear the same one he’d worn to Hamid’s wedding. This time he would be dressed in deep red - the exact shade of Grizzop’s eyes. Grizzop had the tailored pants on already but was frowning at the bed where the jacket was laid out.

“Wasn’t there supposed to be a waistcoat?” he asked Oscar, as Oscar came in.

Oscar patted the tissue paper wrapped package in his hand and set it down on the bed, carefully putting the waistcoat off to one side. Grizzop made an irritated noise and turned to rip the package open.

They’d agreed on a black waistcoat with red highlights, but what Grizzop held was something else entirely.

“What’s this?”

“I made some adjustments to the design. After you left.”

Grizzop ran his hands down the elaborate laces at the back of the corset - because that was what it was - a corset, and then fixed Oscar with a malevolent glare.

“I have the other waistcoat as well,” he said, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest. “If that’s what you’d prefer.”

“Why?”

Oscar smirked. “Let me show you.”

Two minutes later Grizzop was standing on a footstool in front of the mirror while Oscar threaded the bright red lace of the corset. There were twenty rows of eyelets, going all the way up the line of Grizzop’s spine, and Oscar felt Grizzop’s entire body tense as he pulled the lace taught on the first set.

“Oh,” Grizzop let out the word in a soft breath. Then “nngh” when he reached the fifth. “Oscar!” on the twelfth. 

Oscar paused. “Do you want me to finish this?” he leaned forward and whispered the words into Grizzop’s ear.

The sound Grizzop let out was positively feral. “Hurry up,” he said.

“We can do it fast, or we can do it properly,” Oscar said, then licked a stripe along Grizzop’s ear.

“I will murder you in your sleep, Wilde.”

“Promises promises.”

When he was done Grizzop hopped down from the chair, then twisted to look at the row of laces behind him. Oscar noticed there were high spots of colour on his cheeks, and as he moved he squirmed a little, letting out a slight gasp.

“Too much?” Oscar asked, indicating the other waistcoat laid out on the bed.

Grizzop’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he said.

Oscar raked his eyes down Grizzop’s front, then raised an eyebrow. The goblin’s eyes narrowed, if possible, even further, and he determinedly pulled on the suit jacket, smoothing his hands down his front and taking a deep breath.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Ed’s parties were always lavish and charming, largely due to his wife, Aoife, and Tjelvar’s organisational skills rather than any effort on Ed’s part. Ed’s job was to be present and pretty and he did that perfectly, as always. Tonight he was dressed in gold and swept through crowds people like an overexcited puppy. Nothing could deter him from talking at great length about the imminent arrival of his child, discussions which were enthusiastically expanded upon by Tjelvar while Aoife, the person who would actually be giving birth when the time came, simply rested her hand on her swollen stomach and sighed with exasperated fondness.

“You look very handsome, Grizzop!” Ed said to him. Grizzop, whose tolerance of Ed was short at the best of times, stared at him flatly. 

“Oh  _ really _ ,” he said, then hissed as Oscar reached out and laid his hand on Grizzop’s back, pressing his fingers lightly into the gaps between the laces he could just feel beneath the fabric of the suit jacket.

“Eddie was giving you a compliment,” Oscar said lightly. 

Grizzop’s ears were laid flat against his skull, but he propped them out again when he saw Oscar’s other hand move towards one, resolutely putting on his most cheerful expression with only slightly more teeth than usual.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry Ed. And thanks.”

Ed gave them a good natured nod, oblivious to the fact that Grizzop’s breath had picked up, that he was slightly, ever so slightly, rocking up and back on his feet, gentle flexes of his ankles that meant the pressure of Oscar’s fingers was moving up, and down. Oscar splayed his hand and ran it up the line of Grizzop’s spine and Grizzop’s head whipped round to fix Oscar with a heated glare.

Oscar stopped the movement of his hand and sucked in a breath at the force of it. “You good?” he asked, soft and low. Grizzop nodded, then wet his lips with his tongue. Oscar shifted a little, having to make a conscious effort to look back up at Ed, who was asking another question. His eyes slid to Aoife’s as he answered - some meaningless platitude or another - and he caught her raising an eyebrow over eyes glinting with amusement. 

Oscar was nothing if not himself, and he gave her a salacious wink.

She laughed.

* * *

They danced. Zolf loved to dance, and pre-warned by Oscar of the special circumstances of Grizzop’s clothing, allowed the goblin to lead in the only dance Grizzop would take part so he didn’t have to cope with Zolf’s hand on his back.

Dancing was frivolous and served no purpose for a hunt (usually) so no one would think it odd that he did not dance more than once, or that his only dance was with Zolf. Making Zolf happy was a pastime that both Oscar and Grizzop pursued with singular determination, however, and so after that dance was over, Oscar had to step in.

“How’s he holdin’ up?” Zolf asked..

Oscar raised an eyebrow down at Zolf, whose green eyes were twinkling. “Whatever do you mean?”

“He was swearing a lot when we danced, you know he only does that when he’s… you know....”

“I’ve stashed the other waistcoat in the coatroom. If he wants to change he only has to ask.”

“You’re awful.”

“You love it.”

“Well, yeah. But I think you’re going to end up paying for this.”

Oscar glanced over to where Grizzop was standing, if possible, straighter than usual, ears vibrating slightly as he spoke to Azu and Sasha, a drink that he hadn’t touched in one hand. “Oh, I most definitely hope so.”

“Well I’ve got earplugs and I’ll prep the usual spells for tomorrow morning, shall I?”

Oscar laughed, delighted, and leaned down to press a kiss to Zolf’s scarred temple as they twirled. “I love you, Zolf Smith.”

“Yeah, I know.”

* * *

Several dances later, when Zolf’s prosthetics started to give him trouble, Oscar was lounging in the library with a brandy, listening to Carter and Tjelvar bicker about some obscure point of Egyptology, when he saw Grizzop in the doorway. He looked tense, but not angry, and he beckoned to Oscar, who excused himself from the discussion. Carter and Tjelvar didn’t even pause.

Grizzop took his hand and led him, determined, to a darkened room. Oscar couldn’t see its purpose, but he guessed it was some sort of servant’s storeroom, not that he had enough time to really take it in as once the door shut behind them Grizzop was scrabbling up Oscar like he was some sort of tree.

“Do you want it off?” Oscar managed to gasp out, before Grizzop plastered his lips to Oscar’s.

“No,” Grizzop’s chest was heaving. “Just. Need. I  _ need…”  _ he trailed off into a growl and bit down hard on Oscar’s neck. Oscar let out a yelp. Grizzop had both legs wrapped around Oscar’s waist at this point and was rocking against him so Oscar could feel how hard he was.

“You’re going to ruin the suit,” Oscar said, laughing a little.  _ “Both  _ our suits.”

“Don’t. Care.”

“Wait.”

“Done waiting.”

“No, really, I have an idea.”

He turned so that Grizzop’s back was against the door, then lifted him up. Grizzop gasped, then, always quick on the uptake, hooked his legs around Oscar’s shoulders and leant against the door,arching his back to give Oscar easier access, one hand tangled in Oscar’s hair while the other helped Oscar with his trousers.

Grizzop was rock hard and dripping and Oscar nuzzled at him for a second before Grizzop twisted a lock of hair around his hand and  _ yanked  _ hard enough to make Oscar yelp.

“Done waiting,” he hissed out again. 

“So impatient,” Oscar breathed over Grizzop’s cock, which twitched against his lips. 

“Fuck  _ you.” _

Oscar opened his mouth. The angle was new, and it took a moment for Oscar to get a rhythm going while Grizzop swore above him, twisting in his grip, both hands tangled in Oscar’s hair now. Oscar worked his tongue faster, swallowed deeper, then snaked one hand up to the small of Grizzop’s back, tracing along the laces lightly for a moment before  _ pressing hard. _

The shriek that Grizzop let out as he came was definitely loud enough to be heard in the hallway outside the room - possibly loud enough to reach the ballroom. Oscar held him in his mouth as he twitched and writhed, swallowing around him, before pulling off as Grizzop went boneless against the door, panting for a moment.

“Are we staying here all night?” Oscar said, amused. Grizzop half heartedly pulled at his hair again before hopping down from his perch and doing up his trousers. 

“There’s a  _ party _ going on,” he said. 

Oscar titled his head and spread his hands. “You mean we’re  _ done  _ here?” he said, in mock offense. Grizzop grinned, white teeth stark in the moonlight, then leaned forward and patted Oscar’s erection as though it was an errant child.

“You’re going to need that later,” he said, then slipped out.

A few minutes later, after Oscar had fixed his hair and prestidigitated away the tooth marks on his neck, he also slipped out into the corridor.

Back in the ballroom he found Grizzop staring down a man Oscar recognised.

“Why are you staring daggers at Matthew Arnold, Grizzop?” Oscar asked mildly.

“He was in the corridor when I came out,” Grizzop said, a little smugly. “I threatened to shoot his kneecaps off when he asked what the noise was. I don’t think he liked it.”

Oscar grinned, then turned to catch Arnold’s gaze, raising one eyebrow as he smoothed a hand over Grizzop’s scalp. Arnold flushed pink and looked away. “Just be happy he didn’t decide to give you a lecture on poetry as morality,” Oscar said. “Feeling any better?”

“I’ll last until we get home.”

“I can undo you, if you’d like.”

“Thought you already had.” Oscar leaned down to kiss the tip of one of Grizzop’s ears. Grizzop flicked it, narrowly missing Oscar’s eye with one of its rings. “Watch it, Wilde. Arnold’s aren’t the only kneecaps in danger here.”

* * *

They bid Ed and his family goodbye at a reasonable hour. Since the end of the world Oscar had no longer felt it necessary to be the life of every party. Hamid and Azu were still dancing and Sasha was having an animated discussion with Cel when they left the ballroom, Zolf muttering darkly about letting the two of them anywhere near each other considering the last time they’d collaborated on something they’d made a crater half a mile wide near his old home in Somerset. 

The fact that they’d  _ meant  _ to do it, and discovered a new rich vein of tin there that would keep Zolf’s former village fed and wealthy for decades to come was beside the point, whenever they got together, explosions happened, and Zolf wasn’t desperately keen on explosions. 

Zolf pretended to read a book in the carriage on the way home as Oscar lightly rested his hand on Grizzop’s back. It was part of a game they played. Zolf was only very occasionally inclined to join them in their bedroom activities, but heartily enjoyed the farce surrounding them, and he’d been grinning at them both on and off all evening.

When they arrived at their apartments, he walked up the stairs with exaggerated slowness while Grizzop vibrated, then bade them both goodnight. Slowly.

There was a clang as Grizzop affectionately kicked the dwarf in the shin and Zolf retired to his room. 

* * *

Oscar would be lying if he didn’t expect the ball of goblin that barreled into him as soon as the door was closed. Oscar happily fell backwards on the bed as Grizzop crawled onto him, wrapping spider-like around his torso and leaving small, sharp bites down the side of his neck while he fumbled at Oscar’s own waistcoat.

He shucked Grizzop’s jacket off his shoulders and ran his hands up the curve of laces on his spine, tugging gently at them as he went.

“Do you want it off?”

“Not yet,” Grizzop growled, as he all but tore Oscar’s shirt open. Clever fingers caught and twisted at Oscar’s nipples, making him arch off the bed and groan, before Grizzop started on his trousers, stripping Oscar naked with brutal efficiency. “Faster than when you do it. Fucking tease.”

“Tease?” Oscar would never pretend to be as strong as Grizzop, size relative, but size did have it’s advantages, because when Grizzop had finished divesting himself of his own trousers it was easy enough for Oscar to flip him onto his front, straddling his thighs, his cock resting against the divot of Grizzop’s ass. Grizzop squirmed and groaned under him as Oscar rocked back and forth for a moment, sliding his cock over Grizzop’s skin as he ran one hand up the line of laces and tugged at the bow at the top.

“Off,” Grizzop said, voice muffled by the bedclothes.

Oscar delicately pulled the bow loose and hooked one finger underneath the lace, tugging gently. The lace made a delicious sound as it dragged against the metal eyelet, rich and textural. 

He pulled slowly, and Grizzop squirmed again. “Get it off, Wilde.”

Oscar squeezed his knees together, trapping Grizzop more firmly, letting out a huff of breath as Grizzop squirmed again under him, delightful friction against Oscar’s cock, and pulled at the laces again with one hand, the other reaching out to trace a line along one of Grizzop’s ears.

“Unnghh…” Grizzop twisted even harder under him, and Oscar flicked at the second earring on that ear before pulling at the lace again.  _ “Fuck.You. Oscar. Wilde.”  _

“Very shortly, I do hope, Grizzop,” he said. 

“Get it off, or you won’t be,” Grizzop snarled. Oscar lazily rolled his hips, panting slightly. Then he released an ear and reached down and around in front of Grizzop, the other hand still busy at the laces. He grasped Grizzop’s cock and felt the goblin buck under him as Oscar squeezed, held him there while he undid the last of the laces, the corset falling open to reveal the back of Grizzop’s shirt, soaked in sweat. Oscar pushed the shirt up and licked a line up as much of Grizzop’s spine as he could reach, and Grizzop let out a wail, heaving backwards with enough strength to dislodge Oscar, who laughed as Grizzop twisted around, all but tearing the corset and shirt from him and launching himself at Oscar, pushing him to the floor. 

Grizzop kissed and bit a line down Oscar’s stomach to his cock while Oscar toyed with one of his ears, then wrapped both hands around its base and swallowed him, working him with skill, drawing more and more of him in, until Oscar was hilt deep, gasping and writhing. Just as he was building to his peak, Grizzop pulled off with a pop, looking up at Oscar and grinning, displaying every one of his sharp teeth.

Oscar breathed out through his nose. “Is this your payback?” he managed to say. Grizzop tilted his head, then shook it, clambering up until he could slide both their cocks together. He grabbed one of Oscar’s hands and guided it over his own, their cocks slick with Grizzop’s spit and sweat, the room full of the noise of their breath, their hands, their bodies.

It didn’t take long for Grizzop to come, Oscar following shortly afterwards with a cry, his back arching against the floor.

They were left a panting mess, mingled come all over Oscar’s stomach. Grizzop grabbed his shirt and mopped it up before flopping forward, boneless over Oscar. He was like a furnace against Oscar’s skin, heart hammering against his ribs, breath slowly coming back to normal. Oscar lightly ran his fingers up Grizzop’s spine and Grizzop murmured a half-hearted complaint and wriggled a little bit, before settling, and Oscar lay there, content for a few minutes before he realised Grizzop had fallen asleep.

Oscar prided himself on staying in decent shape, but there was no way a night on the floor was going to do him any good whatsoever, so with some difficulty he managed to get to his feet, Grizzop still pressed against him, and carried him to the bed. 

One of Grizzop’s eyes opened a slit as Oscar arranged the covers over him. 

“Are we even then?” Oscar asked, softly, and Grizzop grinned, wriggling down in the covers a little more.

“Not even close,” he said, and Oscar slid in next to him, encircling him in his arms and settling down to sleep.

“Good to know,” he murmured.


End file.
